


Of Monsters and Men

by Ana_Kerie



Category: Dragon Quest Builders (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Kid Fic, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-11-02 04:54:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20628113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ana_Kerie/pseuds/Ana_Kerie
Summary: Set several years after the epilogue of Dragon Quest Builders 2, Malroth reflects on his life and what it really means to be human. And not just for himself.





	Of Monsters and Men

**Author's Note:**

> Just a one-off based on how I like to think Malroth and my Builder Lukka are living a few years down the road. This story contains spoilers for the epilogue so read at your own risk if you haven't finished the game and/or the epilogue yet.

Of Monsters and Men

It was not a dark and stormy night.

It was, however, cold and rainy, the sky the color of fresh bruises. They were in that in-between stage now where the beauty of autumn had faded but it wasn’t quite winter either. The Master of Destruction would have found the weather delightful.

Malroth the mortal was more than pleased to be safely inside.

Maybe he was just getting old, he thought with a sigh, as he rolled his neck to a satisfying crack and leaned back in his favorite chair. Here he was, perfectly content to be here lounging in front of the fire like a fat and lazy cat. Of course, age with him was a little tricky to pin down, but this human (humanish) form of his seemed to be degenerating on schedule, based on what he could tell from the others around him. When he’d awoken on that beach, Lukka had pegged him to be roughly her own age, and adding the years since would make this body around thirty or so. 

The chair was overstuffed under a layer of thick, soft black leather. It had a clever little mechanism inside that allowed him to pull up a built-in footrest. A notch on the side could be pulled out to reveal a wooden cut-out designed to hold a drink. The chair next to it was similar, except a bit smaller and the leather was dyed a deep reddish brown. He’d never seen the like before and the craftsmanship was exquisite.

The house was just as well-made: Lukka wouldn’t have tolerated anything less from herself. The textured, dull red brick kept the rain away, and the worst of the cycle of heat and cold. It was more than just a building: it was a gift to him, he had realized shortly after it was completed. The first real home he’d ever had, or at least that he could remember ever having. She’d listened to his preferences on walls and floor and materials, made suggestions, and had somehow managed to incorporate both of their personalities into the place in a way that made perfect sense. And not without a little bit of tweaking his nose at the same time.

_“You used my scales for our bathroom floor? Really, Lukka? Really???”_

_“Oh hush. They’re pretty. They were perfect for it.”_

In her own very strange way, it was a special tribute to the man she loved. And that instead of being repulsed by what he’d been, Lukka embraced it. She took all of his quirks in stride, the same as he did hers, and like the house it all just worked.

Malroth shifted his stiff neck again to gaze idly at the water running down the bay window. He’d never even heard bay windows before Lukka decided she wanted the house to have them. He had no idea what the damn things even were, but if she wanted them, Malroth was determined she would have them. He had to admit he liked them, liked the little wooden window-seats that they would curl up together in sometimes. In fact, as nice as the fire was, and as comfortable as his leather chair was, he wanted to be in the window right now with his arms around his wife. 

All these years and he still didn’t like being away from her for very long. However, she was needed this evening for a consultation on a project, and he hadn’t been able to go with her because a joint creation of theirs needed his attention more.

“Papa?”

She was a right sight. The pink sleeping gown was a little too small for her, but she loved it and had as of yet refused to part with it. It stretched thin around her pot-belly. Her hair was a fatrat’s nest from her pillow, static making it go up and around in all directions and over her eyes. A very care-worn stuffed Hammerhood was currently being crushed in one of her armpits.

She had his black hair and swarthier skin (a little lighter now that her summer tan was fading away) and the color of his eyes if not the shape. The rest of her short, chubby self and round face came courtesy of her mother. The first time she had been placed in his arms, he had declared her the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

Four years later, he had not changed that opinion.

“Zari, what are you doing awake?” Malroth held out his arms. “Bad dream, kid?”

“No.” She shook her head, further disrupting her bed-head. “Just awake. Is Mama home?” She crawled up onto his lap and he helped her get settled into place. With a happy sigh she snuggled close and laid her head over his heart.

“Nah, but she’ll be back soon. You wanna to wait up for her with me?”

“Yeah.”

Not much of a talker, his girl. Malroth didn’t mind a bit. Zarianna said what she needed to say, when she needed to say it. She was often blunt and to the point, bordering just on the point of rude at times without crossing over it. Zari wasn’t a cruel kid. She just didn’t “didn’t suffer fools lightly” as Anessa once put it.

He loved these quiet moments with her, when she was tiny and safe in his arms, and he treasured them all the more because he knew they would be so fleeting. She was already growing up faster than he’d ever thought possible.

It pleased him.

It fucking terrified him.

At this moment, she was in that part of life where she simply accepted things as they were. She was Zarianna, called Zari when she wasn’t in trouble for something. They were Mama and Papa and they lived in a big house on an island with a lot of other houses and other people. Sometimes they went on a boat to visit other islands and talk to different people. She played outside with other children, and swam in the pool or in the ocean, and went down the massive water-slides with her parents. She had a host of honorary aunts and uncles, not all of whom were human. She was a happy, well-loved kid, and Malroth was willing to go full Master of Destruction on anyone who tried to make his daughter unhappy.

He could not, however, stop time.

One day she was going to realize that adults were once children and ask Malroth about his own childhood and parents. 

He had considered lying when that day came, making up stories of an idyllic boyhood and a doting mother and father. He knew he wouldn’t. That he would rather confuse her than be dishonest with her. Still, how in the world was he going to make her understand when he didn’t completely understand himself?

Something could not just exist, the logical part of his brain told him. Everything had to come from somewhere. So where had he originally come from? Even if he’d always been a demon, something had to have created that demon to begin with. Was there something before that, though? He won’t ever have those answers.

One day, his daughter was going to realize that her beloved Papa wasn’t quite as human as her Mama and the other people she knew. For a while, he supposed, she would just accept that. Then one day something would click inside of her head, and it is that day he truly dreaded.

The day that Zari asked herself: if her father was not, strictly speaking, a human, then what was she?

He could live with her questioning his own humanity. The idea of her questioning her own, that she might feel somehow…less…because she was half of him…

He angrily shoved those thoughts aside. Yes, it would probably happen. But not right now. For right now she was safe in her ignorance and he wished to keep her there as long as possible. He leaned down and blew into her hair and she giggled.

And maybe he was worrying for nothing. She would only consider being part monster a bad thing if she didn’t like monsters. And she was currently growing up surrounded by the most overprotective batch of creatures Malroth could imagine, himself not included. It reminded him a little of how the miners had acted around Babs all those years ago (although, he thought somewhat sourly, anyone monster or human who eventually wanted to see his daughter put on fishnets and dance was in for a thumping.) Hearing his child whoop with laughter as she bounced around the island on Arisplotle’s silvery, slimy back was one of the sweetest sounds he knew.

“Papa, tell me the Madusa story.” She demanded imperiously now, and then added a reluctant “please” on the end as an afterthought.

So much his kid…

Malroth was almost to the end of the familiar tale, and Zari was nearly asleep against his heartbeat, when the front door opened and his sensitive nose picked up the fragrance of water and wet wool.

“Mama!” Zari jumped down off of Malroth’s lap, leaving the toy hammerhood behind, and flew into her mother’s arms.

Lukka looked like a half-drowned puppy, soaked to the skin, light brown hair hanging in wet and matted clumps around her head. Malroth shifted himself into “over-protective husband” mode.

“Zari, your Mama needs to get changed before she gets sick. Go back to bed, kiddo. We’ll both come tuck you back in in a few minutes. You…” he pointed at Lukka. “With me. Now.”

“Yes, Master.” Lukka saluted, and Zari giggled. A narrow-eyed look from her Papa sent her scampering away, still laughing. She grabbed up her hammerhood along the way.

“About time you showed me proper respect.” Malroth leaned down and gave Lukka a quick kiss. “Come on, babe. You can tell me how it went once we get you wrung out.” He put his hand firmly on her shoulder and guided her down the hall. She put one cool hand on top of his own, not to remove it, but for the comfort the feeling of his skin provided.

In their bedroom, Malroth pulled off Lukka’s wet clothing, leaving it in a damp pile on the floor. He could tell that she was exhausted by the fact that she allowed him to fuss over her, to towel off her clammy skin and chafe her arms and legs to warm them up. “I’m going to be really mad if you get a cold.” He warned her as he nearly stuffed her into a heavy nightdress. “I’m going to make you stay in bed for a week and just eat broth and I won’t let you build anything.” He grabbed up her favorite, rather shabby, pink bathrobe and wrapped it tightly around her, securing the belt. She always looked so tiny in it, so delicate and helpless. And he knew she wasn’t, but seeing her this way always made him feel so protective in the pit of his soul (did he even have one of those?) He wanted her to feel as warm and wrapped up in his love as she did the old bathrobe.

“Promise?” She asked, leaning against him much the way their daughter had. “I really don’t feel like leaving the house for a week anyway. All I could think about the whole time was coming back home and just…just this. This is what I wanted.”

He walked her over to the bed and sat down next to her, reaching for her wooden hairbrush. He yanked her wet bow out of her sodden hair and spread the strands out with his fingers before attacking it with the brush. “Was it that bad?” Her hair was thick, so thick it came close to being wiry, and he tried to be careful not to pull too hard. It had taken quite a bit of time (and yelps) for Malroth to get proficient at this task. Worth it, though. Lukka loved having him brush her hair.

“Pretty bad. One neighborhood wants to go as fancy as possible and the other one wants it to be more rustic and I swear I thought they were about to come to blows over the whole thing. Then you have the Children, who think I should go with a ‘putrid swamp’ theme. I’m not designing three separate recreation centers so if they want even one they better come to a compromise. I’m this close to going with the swamp: at least the monsters were polite about their request. Too polite. Gremville knowns damn well I can’t resist those big baby-bat eyes of his! Ow!”

“Sorry, Lukka. You have a big tangled knot right there. Trying to be as gentle as I can. Go on.”

“Then things got really tense. You know that newer guy, Marbin?”

“Marbin…bald, fat, came here about a year ago from Moonbrooke?”

“That’s the one. He started talking about how maybe I wasn’t the ‘right’ builder for the job and how there were oh so many other skilled builders on this island and maybe one of them should do the design-work. Someone ‘a little bit older’ was the way he put it. I might have been okay with that, but then he just had to add that he wanted someone to give it a more ‘masculine’ touch.”

Malroth actually growled, and Lukka chuckled. “I know, if you’d been there you would have gone off on him, but my honor was defended. Hellen and the Captain gave him a dressing down he won’t forget any time soon. He went back home with his tail between his legs.”

He smiled although she couldn’t see it. Bonanzo’s boasting aside, it was Captain Whitebones who had appointed himself Lukka’s surrogate father, and if he was her ‘father’ then Hellen was her unofficial mother. It was comforting to know that even if when Malroth couldn’t be there with his wife, she still had someone watching her back. And next to himself, no one was more loyal to his wife than the crew of misfit monsters she’d befriended once upon a time in Malhalla. Topped only by her fierce devotion to them. Any humans who took issue with sharing the island with non-humans were jolly well welcome to go stuff themselves.

_“Before, the places we’d gone…everyone needed us. We could have walked away and been fine but they needed us to fix things and make it all better. When I was in Malhalla, I needed help. And maybe they did too, but I’d never needed anything or anyone so badly in my life. I was desperate. They took care of me. I was a human: they could have just killed me on the spot. But they adopted me. They didn’t have much food at first, but they shared what they had with me. Even if it was pretty gross. They gave me a safe place to sleep. Helped me find you. In all the other places, I made really wonderful friends. But in Malhalla, it was different. They became more than just friends.”_

_You are being silly, Malroth, _he told himself._ Of course Zari isn’t going to give a flip if she’s part monster. Half her family is made up of monsters. She’s going to consider it an honor. If it wasn’t for them, she wouldn’t even be here._

When he’d finished sorting out Lukka’s hair, he left it down loose and just held her against him for a moment, enjoying her scent and the way her skin felt through the nightdress and robe. “Did they at least feed you at the consultation?” His voice took a dangerous tone. “If they kept you there all this time and didn’t feed you…”

“I ate. They just had some sandwiches but it was food. Did Zari put up her usual fuss at dinner?”

“The kid ate all of her butterbeans. I mean, after I made her take them out of her hand and put them back on the plate. She’s getting sneaky.” Lukka rolled her eyes a little at the pride in his voice.

After he was satisfied that his wife was sufficiently warmed up and dried off enough, Malroth followed her to Zari’s room, where the child was already sound asleep. Lukka pulled up the blankets around her daughter and picked the hammerhood up off the floor, tucking it under Zari’s arm. The girl muttered something unintelligible and her eyelids fluttered as she pulled her friend closer.

The nursey was a wonderland for a child, with hand-made toys everywhere and murals on the wall of places Malroth and Lukka had traveled. Again Malroth felt time hurdle passed him so quickly he almost felt a breeze. Zari would want it redone one day, the murals painted over, the toys packed away. All the reminders of the little girl she’d been hidden to her liking.

One more step in the process of becoming whomever she was meant to become. Who that was, he honestly had no idea.

While Zari was capable of leaving a trail of destruction behind her, Malroth had seen enough other children by now to know it was normal and unfortunately not some sign that she was a demolition prodigy. On the other hand, she had yet to show either an aptitude or an interest in building. Her eyes actually seemed to glaze over each time Lukka tried explaining some process or tool. She was still somewhat of a mystery to both of her parents, but Malroth was enjoying the challenge of slowly figuring her out.

Back in the living room, Lukka crawled into the window seat, drawing up her knees against her chest as Malroth poured steaming tea into a couple of mugs and handed her one. He sat down behind her, using his hands to lift her own as she took a sip. The steam from the cups and their breath fogged the glass a little, and Lukka idly doodled “MLZ” surrounded by a large heart.

“I was thinking…” Malroth finally broke the silence. “Once you get your recreation center designed, or bash in some heads, or let me bash in some heads, we should take a vacation. Take the kid to Blossom Bay for a week. Do some hunting and fishing. Eat way too many strawberries. You in?”

He could see her smile reflected in the window glass. “That sounds like the best idea I’ve heard all day. Just the three of us…no projects for a while, no demands.”

“Won’t go that far. I’ll definitely have some demands after the girl conks out. And there’s that one project we’ve been working on…” He nuzzled her hair. “Who knows? Maybe this time next year Zari’ll be a big sister.”

They were quiet again for a few minutes, watching the drizzle. Lukka turned her head slightly to look at him. “Maybe this one will want to build something with me. Zari acts like I’m trying to murder her.” She looked away again. “She’s going to leave us one day, isn’t she? I thought she’d stay here forever and get married and take over for me but she’s not. Maybe the next one will, or one after that, but not her. She’s already restless. I can see it in her. How excited she gets when we travel. She’s already hungry for the world and she’s not even five yet. How can we keep her safe, Mal? What are we supposed to do? I don’t want to lose her like…” She took a breath. “Like my parents lost me.”

It was an unexpected turn in the conversation, and an old pain that she only allowed to resurface when she was exhausted and already emotionally drained. It wasn’t a problem he could bash away for her, either, as much as he wanted to.

She had planned to go back home for a visit. To introduce Malroth to her family, to show him all the people and places and bits and bobs that had combined to produce the woman she was. And she could have done so. She could have gone back to Cantlin and taken him along.

They just could not have ever returned to this world.

The Hairy Hermit had been blunt in his explanation. Malroth still didn’t understand it entirely, but the gist was that he could send Lukka back through the rift, back to her own world, but he lacked the power to reverse the process. He still wasn’t entirely sure how Hargon had managed to pull it off.

Malroth would have gone with her, if she’d chosen her world. He would have bid a fond farewell to his friends here and followed her anywhere. He hadn’t had to. Lukka had chosen to stay, to live her life here in the world they had created, with the extended family they had adopted along the way. He knew she didn’t regret that choice.

He also knew it still hurt her that she’d had to make it in the first place.

“Sometimes…I think Zari is going to go through the rift. That she’s going to choose a life over there instead of here. The idea that I’ll never see her again if she does that…I’m sorry. I’m being an idiot.”

“No, you’re being a Mum. And a good one. I worry that one day she’ll realize I’m not really human and get all worried about what she is. That she’s a monster or something.”

“My love, she’ll be the happiest person in world if she thinks she’s a monster.”

“Yeah, that’s what finally decided.” He kissed the shell of her right ear. “Lukka, I don’t know where she’ll end up. Here, or Cantlin, or somewhere else. And if she goes away for good I am going to be seriously upset. It’s gonna break my heart. But she’ll be okay. Even without us, if she has to be. She’s your kid, after all.”

“Part of her, anyway.” She tilted her head backwards. “So…wanna go give me another one to worry about?”

“Sure you aren’t too exhausted?”

“I’m very exhausted. That’s why I’m going to let you do all the work.”

“Well, that’s a little selfish, Lukka.” He huffed and slid out of the window. “I’m not some piece of meat, you know.”

“Yes you are. Manky meat and you know it.” She was so tired she was feeling silly and slap-happy and he loved it when she acted like this. “Manky Malroth, I’m going to call you. Mr. Manky Meat.”

“Oh, I’ll show you some manky meat.”

The rain continued throughout the night. In their bed, Lukka fell asleep first and Malroth held her tightly. Her sweat mingled with his and he hoped it was a good sign that other things would merge as well. As stressful as being a Dad could be, he liked it. If Lukka was willing to do the grunt work in shoving them into the world, he would be happy to give her as many sprouts as she wanted. He fell asleep against his wife dreaming of a future wonderfully and mundanely human.

In her own bed, Zari clutched the hammerhood tightly as her dreams took her over water, over the horizon and into places flavored by stories she’d heard and her own imagination. She dreamed of a future wonderfully and fantastically monster.

In their sleep, Malroth and his daughter wore identical smiles.


End file.
